Home for the Holidays
by x.MyrtenasterRose.x
Summary: [Done for RWBY Secret Santa on Tumblr] You're spending Christmas alone again this year. It's nothing new to you, yet the thought still weighs heavy on your heart. All your life, all you've wanted was companionship, especially during the holidays. However, the girl you find huddled in a back alley wasn't the kind of company you were expecting. [mAU-ish. White Rose]


**This fic was done for the RWBY Secret Santa on Tumblr. The user I got was** **suomynonAX** **. After checking their profile, it was pretty obvious they were fond of White Rose, so, in their honor, this was born.**

 **Happy Holidays, Suo, and I hope you enjoy your gift!**

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.:Home for the Holidays:.

 **For Suo**

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The first time you see her, it's mid-December, the first snowfall of the season drifting lazily upon the city. She's there in the back alley of the amphitheater as you leave after preforming the first of your Christmas concerts, huddled up against a brick wall under the neighboring building's fire escape. A bright red cloak is wrapped tightly around her to conserve what little body heat she can muster, but otherwise the girl's appearance is significantly lackluster. Upon hearing the door shut, she looks up, and you're struck by wide silver eyes that are filled with unwavering innocence.

You are floored by this girl, the two of you falling into a silent stare down. She certainly doesn't fit the bill for the kind of homeless your father has preached to you over and over to avoid at all costs. The most obvious difference being that she's a young girl; younger than yourself, even.

You have always felt sorry for the homeless, despite your father constantly drilling the opposite into you. After finding out you had given your entire allowance to an elder gentleman when you were eight years-old, he had yelled at you to never do so again—even going as far as hitting you in derision. The homeless were not to be pitied; they did not deserve your sympathy. They were lazy wash-ups who were looking for the easy way out. Nothing good would come from helping them. They would only end back up where they started within the month.

Or so your father wanted you to believe. You did for a while, but for the past five years, you've come to your own understanding that his description only covers a select few of the homeless population. The majority is simply the unfortunate; the ones who really do try their best, yet are continuously given the short end of the stick.

The girl before you at this exact moment surely proves this.

"Hi," the girl finally pipes up, granting you such a dazzling smile, it makes her situation almost ironic.

"Hello," you greet in return.

"I heard you singing," she says. "It was really beautiful."

"You could hear that out here?" You can't keep the surprise from your voice.

The girl giggles in response and your heart flutters at the sound. How can someone in such a bleak situation continue being so cheery?

"Yeah!" she's exclaiming. "I wouldn't call it the best seat in the house—or _out_ , if you want to get technical—but it almost felt like I was in the front row!"

You grant her a smile at that, and hers immediately widens in turn. "Thank you."

"No problem." Holding up a styrofoam cup, she asks with a meek smile, "Spare change?"

An idea flashes through your mind then, and the fact that it is something your father would oppose makes it all the more appealing. With a grin, you look back down at the girl.

"I have a better idea."

XxXxX

"Wow, Weiss, you really didn't have to do this!"

You notice then that this is probably the most you've smiled in a long time, yet the fact that it's because of a girl who's basically a stranger doesn't bother you in the slightest.

"You act like we're at a five star restaurant, not Olive Garden," you quip back in jest.

"Are you kidding?! This _is_ a five star restaurant to me!"

The girl, who you now know is named Ruby, sits across from you, gesticulating wildly as she eats her second bowl of bottomless pasta. Your own entrée sits only partially eaten before you, the exuberant girl simply too entertaining to focus on anything else.

Back in the alley, you had boldly proposed to instead of giving Ruby the change in your wallet—which would most likely have totaled close to a thousand dollars in itself, honestly—you would treat her to dinner. Ruby must have spent some time in homeless shelters, as her clothes weren't as filthy or ratty as they could have been, and, as far as you could tell, she had showered fairly recently. While they wouldn't be able to get her into any restaurant you and your parents frequent regularly, you figured you could never go wrong with Olive Garden.

Thank the gods you were correct.

"So," Ruby starts with another mouthful of pasta, yet somehow making her poor table manners look like refined etiquette, "why did you help me out back there? You know I would've been just fine with a buck."

You give her a look that just screams, 'what would a dollar have gotten you,' and the girl across from you flushes before filling her mouth to the point where she can't say anything else silly.

"I mean," she does continue upon swallowing, "just why?"

You shrug, pushing your own pasta around on your plate. "I don't know; I've just always had a soft spot for the homeless. Plus, this would aggravate my father to no end, so that's a bonus."

"You're not as much of a daddy's girl as you look, huh?" A sly grin matches the words.

You can feel your face redden at the jab. "I really look like that?" you mutter.

Ruby rolls her eyes, but there's a smile that means no harm upon her lips. "Only…a lot."

You mirror her eye roll, sending Ruby into another fit of giggles so sweet you could get a cavity just from listening.

A few minutes of silence pass where you both go back to eating, but you still don't get much accomplished, too busy instead looking up every so often to shoot nervous glances across the table.

"Ruby?"

She looks up at you, those innocent silver eyes flashing, and your heart clenches.

"Do you…have any place to stay?"

Her fork clatters to her plate as she quickly puts two and two together.

"Weiss…" she whispers, her voice going up in pitch, "you don't need to… I-I couldn't possibly…"

"Just answer the question!" you find yourself clipping, yet making sure there isn't as much malice present as usual.

Immediately, silver pools flicker downwards as a soft, "no" is uttered.

"Look," you say, prompting Ruby to grace you with those magnificent eyes once more, "it's not like I'm asking you move in forever. Just…for the holidays? Until this weather lets up a bit? You don't need to be outside at night in the snow, and I'm sure those shelters can't be any better."

"But…we barely know each other," Ruby mumbles. A flash of fear ignites in her eyes before she hastily adds, "Not that I don't trust _you_ of course, Weiss, but… You'll honestly let a stranger into your house? And a _homeless_ person at that?"

"I don't care if you're homeless, Ruby," you tell her honestly. "And as far as being a stranger goes, we're doing a good job in rectifying that right now, right?"

"Well, yeah… I-I guess…"

"Christmas is only five days away," you point out. "Stay with me just until the 26th, and then you're free to go, if you wish."

"Your parents are okay with it?" Ruby asks next, a sad look in her eyes as she mumbles, "Bringing home a stray?"

Whether it's the spirit of the holidays emboldening you or something completely different, you lightly kick Ruby's leg under the table. Once she's looking at you again, you flash her the softest, most honest smile in your arsenal.

"You're not a stray, Ruby," you whisper with conviction. "Not to me." Smile turning into a grin, you add, "Besides, my parents are out of town on business and won't be back until well into next month. On top of that, I couldn't care less what they would say."

"You…don't really get along with them then, huh?" Ruby questions delicately next. "Your parents?"

You realize just then that the entire time you've been talking about your parents and putting them down, Ruby most likely has no parents at all. You become sickened by the thought, and lower your head in shame. Ruby seems to pick up on this and copies your earlier action by nudging your leg back.

"It's okay," she tells you, and you can hear the honesty in her statement. "You're allowed to not like your parents, Weiss."

Still, the shame doesn't retreat from your face. "I'm just talking about this as if they're nothing; casting them aside without a second thought and you're…" you trail off, not knowing what to say, nor whether this is a topic to even be breached at the time.

"My family's not much better," Ruby replies grimly, a somewhat-bitter smile now present. "Mom was the only one who worked to get us to a better place." She sees the obvious curiosity reflected on your face, and, smile turning pure once more, takes a breath, and tells her tale.

"It's all pretty convoluted, honestly. I have an older sister, Yang, but she has a different mother. Apparently her mom left Yang with my dad as soon as she was born, and we never heard from her again. So, dad's suddenly had this kid thrust upon him, and he's completely unprepared. Then, he meets _my_ mom. They're good for a while, but then I come along.

"I…I was born prematurely; almost two months so. I had to be kept in the hospital under twenty-four-hour watch for nearly two more months. There was a point where everyone really believed I wasn't going to make it." Her voice is wavering now, but you're uncertain what—if anything—you can do.

"You're…doing great, Ruby," you mumble, immediately chastising yourself for saying something so lame and cliché.

Still, it gets Ruby to smile, so you count it as a victory.

"So, yeah, needless to say, I finally came home with a hefty hospital bill. Mom and dad tried their best to pay it off, but with everything else, plus all expenses with Yang as well, it just kind of… _broke_ them." She heaves another great sigh before wrapping up with, "Anyway, then mom died suddenly from a brain tumor, dad succumbed to drugs and alcohol in his grief, our only other family, our uncle, has been an alcoholic himself since forever, and Yang's serving five years in prison for selling drugs to get us by. So…here I am; moving from shelter to shelter and begging on the streets to get a meal in every other day if I'm lucky."

"What about an…orphanage?" you ask hesitantly. "Surely you're not eighteen yet?"

Ruby shakes her head. "I'm fifteen," she answers. "And I did end up in one at first, but I hated it. Only the babies and little kids get adopted; no one wants a teenager. The older kids become kind of high and mighty because they've been there so long and know they're never going to get adopted, so they act like they run the place. I didn't want to turn into that, so I ran away. Honestly, I think I've preferred shelter and street life to it."

"I'm so sorry, Ruby," you speak honestly. "I can't imagine what all that has been like."

She flashes you a quick, weak smile before reaching for what has to be her seventh breadstick. "It's life," she shrugs off. "It sucks, yeah, but…there's people out there who have it even worse than me, right? I keep telling myself I have to believe that to keep my spirits up. It may sound like a horrible thing to do, but…"

"It's not," you agree. "In a way, I do the same thing."

She looks back at you, breadstick halfway to her mouth, and one delicate eyebrow raised in question. The look is so utterly adorable that you break into an uncharacteristic fitful of giggles. Now she's smiling again, real and true, and you feel the tension in the atmosphere lift somewhat.

"I suppose you've already presumed the kind of family I come from?" you ask, meek smile of your own being cast across the table.

Ruby shrugs and blushes, mumbling gently, "I didn't want to assume."

You laugh in turn and jest, "You'd be the first." Seeing her reflect your smile, you carry on. "I do indeed come from a wealthy family; incredibly so. I suppose I could be said to be the complete opposite of you: never wanting for anything a day in my life. Still," you pause to sigh, "that doesn't mean I automatically have it any better than you or anyone else in your situation.

"Despite growing up with anything materialistic I could ever want or need at my beck and call, the one thing I did want and never got was company. A friend. Companionship. Mother and father have been very detached and distant all my life—in fact I hardly have any fond memories of them, even as a young girl—and my older sister has eight years on me, so by the time I got to the age where I began to truly idolize her, she was sent off to some preparatory school in another kingdom. Now, she's an officer in the army and I rarely see her. It's almost like we're not sisters, with what little contact we've had."

You pause once more to see how Ruby's taking all this, and are hit with a wave of admiration and gratefulness at the look of rapt attention on her face. She's truly listening to everything you're saying; taking everything to heart, and not just idly letting your words flit in one ear and out the other, as you've grown accustomed to being received.

Ruby really seems to care.

The fact that the feeling is such a pleasant change from everyone else around you your entire life makes it even nicer.

"Anyway," you backtrack, shaking your head to dispel the deep thoughts and get back on track, "I suppose I'm trying to say that even though your life may have lacked in areas mine excelled in, you still experienced what I never got to: a sense of home." Smile turning into a grin once more, but still seeming honest, you add, "And now it looks like you're in need of just that."

Ruby cocks her head much like an intrigued puppy, and you find yourself blushing from the sheer adorability.

"A home?" she asks.

Both of you now flushing quite profoundly, you nod in answer.

"For the holidays," you state, something deep within you hoping it could possibly be even longer than that.

Ruby's face nearly matches the shade of the cloak she still dons as she whispers, "I think I like the sound of that."

Beaming, your heart flutters once more.

This would be a merry Christmas indeed.


End file.
